Horcruxes
by cloudlesssky
Summary: PostHBP: After leaving the Dursleys forever, Harry sets out to find the remaining Horcruxes. Please R&R. WARNINGS: character death, HBP spoilers
1. Chapter 1

WARNING: HBP Spoilers, Character Death(s)

Authors Note:  
I wrote this first chapter when I should have been doing my History essay slaps forehead. I'm not sure if I should continue writing this story (I've made a plan and it goes for at least 36 chapters O.o) so please review. I don't mind constructive criticism...but give me motivation to keep going with this story!

CHAPTER ONE

Hedwig had gone out hunting that night, giving Harry an affectionate nip behind his ear before taking off from his bedroom window. Harry saw her off, trying desperately to keep his mind off recent events.

Reluctant as he was, Harry remembered his promise to Dumbledore to continue to obey his orders, and this was how he found himself back at the Dursleys' after the unusually early end to his sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry closed his eyes--he cursed himself, for he had, for the millionth time, reminded himself about his mentor, the only wizard that Voldemort had feared...reminded himself of witnessing his death.

And his death had come at such an inconvenient time, too. Harry had only learned of Voldemort's use of Horcruxes shortly before Dumbledore's death, had accompanied the Hogwarts Headmaster on the quest to find one of those Horcruxes. That quest had resulted with the worst possible results. The Horcrux had been a fake, and Dumbledore had pretty much given his life for it. Harry felt as though there was more to be learned, and for once, he found himself completely independent--he could no longer look up to Dumbledore, ask him for advice or learn pearls of wisdom from him...

His death had come at a time when Harry had felt he had finally managed to move past Sirius' death. No, he hadn't forgotten his godfather, but he had finally learned to accept his death. The Boy Who Lived couldn't think of a time where he had felt more vulnerable than he did now.

First Sirius, then Dumbledore...their deaths reminded Harry of the dangerous times that he lived in--he couldn't dwell in what used to be. He tried not to think of his first year at Hogwarts--Voldemort hadn't regenerated, and was in hiding, and Harry managed to lead a reasonably-normal life (though he knew he would never be normal).

His musings were interrupted, when Hedwig returned, with an unidentifiable-but-definitely-dead creature in her beak, and bearing a letter for her owner.

Frowning, Harry took the letter from Hedwig, and as she fluttered over to her cage, he tore open the envelope, wondering who had written to him.

_Dear Harry,  
I hope you're doing OK, Ron is worrying about you, and quite frankly, so am I. My parents let me stay at the Burrow, and Ron and I have been helping with Bill and Fleur's wedding. You are coming for it, aren't you? You promised, and I'm going to hold you to it. Remember, the date's August 12th, but I do hope you'll come earlier, Ron and I miss you!  
We want to make sure that you're fine.  
There's bad news, I'm afraid--I'm not sure if you still have a subscription for the Daily Prophet, but if you do, I suppose you already know that the Governors decided to close Hogwarts. It's quite sad, isn't it? But I suppose it's the right decision, especially since there's no point in keeping a school open when no parent is going to allow their child to set foot in it.  
Ron says to remind you that we're coming with you to find those Horcruxes, no matter what you do or say to us. You're going to need all the help you can get, Harry, so don't shut us out.  
See you soon,  
Hermione._

His lips started to curl at the sides a little into a small smile, as he skimmed through it a second time before putting it back into its envelope and putting it on his desk. The news that Hogwarts had closed didn't come as a surprise, so he didn't feel too devastated about it, but he was glad that in his time of need, he was sure he could rely on his friends to be there.

* * *

Looking into the Dark Lord's eyes was terrifying, more terrifying then venturing into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night, more terrifying than anything he had ever known, but Draco Malfoy looked anyway. His legs were aching and his knees were sore from kneeling before the mutilated form of his Master. He shivered, suddenly feeling cold.

Severus Snape knelt beside him, and Draco wondered how he could be so calm and collected in the Dark Lord's presence. Then again, Snape wasn't the one who didn't complete the task he'd been given.

"Malfoy, my boy," the Dark Lord said, his voice so chilling and cold to Draco's ears. "Stand up."

Numbly, Draco stood up, keeping his head held high. He was frightened, but he wouldn't show his fear.

"Though I must say I'm impressed that you managed to find a way to let your fellow Death Eaters into Hogwarts without that muggle-loving old fool of a wizard realising, I am still very, very disappointed in you." The wizard's red eyes gleamed as he stared at the sixteen-year-old boy that stood before him. "But at least you have proven yourself more worthy than your idiot of a father."

Draco tried not to flinch at the mention of his father, but he was sure that You-Know-Who had noticed his reaction. It had been his father's stupid mistake that had landed him in this predicament, and for once, Draco had no respect for his father--he didn't hate him, but he didn't admire him like he did when he was younger.

"For your mistake, though, there will be punishment. If it weren't for Severus here..." A pale, bony hand gestured toward Snape, who had a rather blank expression on his face. "If he hadn't been there to fix the situation, you would have been a dead boy, no doubt about that." Knowing what was coming, Draco braced himself. "_Crucio._"

The sound of Draco's screams of pain only caused the Dark Lord to laugh, while the former Hogwarts professor before him bowed his head, hiding his shiny eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Whoops, I forgot the Disclaimer on the first chapter O.o, so here it is: I don't own anything, they all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

Warnings: character death(s), HBP spoilers

Author's Note: This chapter isn't as long as the previous one, but...eh. Hope you enjoy, and please review!

CHAPTER TWO

The Dursleys were glad to see the back of him forever, and even waved cheerily as Harry trudged off into the dark street. Had this happened the previous year, Harry would have snorted with laughter, but the present-day Harry only shook his head, disgusted that Dudley could hardly fit through the front door.

Once he reached the roadside, Harry took his wand out of his pocket and extended his wand arm, and within seconds, he heard a loud bang! before the Knight Bus noisily trundled down Privet Drive and came to a stop before him. Harry ascended the bus, and gave a slight nod to Ernie, the driver, whom he had met before when he had been thirteen years old.

"'Ey 'Arry!" Ernie smiled, baring his yellow teeth at Harry. "Where are ya off tuh?"

"The Burrow, please, Ernie," Harry replied, and paid Ernie his fare before finding an empty bed near the back of the bus. He lay down as the bus moved again, giving one glance at Hedwig, who was hooting sleepily, before closing his eyes.

* * *

Severus Snape had never felt himself in, with lack of a better term, deeper shit than he was in now. The only man who trusted him had been killed, killed by no other than Snape himself, and it weighed on his conscience, despite the fact that the old, weak, and dying wizard had made it clear that it was what he wanted to happen.

Had Snape informed the now-very-much-dead Dumbledore of the last clause of the Unbreakable Vow that he had made to Narcissa, perhaps the man would be alive today. But Severus had chosen to keep this information from him, not wanting the Hogwarts Headmaster to know of his weak moment with Narcissa and Bellatrix. However, the thought kept nagging him...

Would it have made a difference, if he had told him?

The only people who trusted him now were Draco Malfoy, and his mother Narcissa. Draco, being his protege since his first year at Hogwarts, had placed his trust into the Potions Master, and Severus did not want to fail him as he had failed Dumbledore. He didn't particularly care about Narcissa--he thought, rather bitterly, she was the one that came to him for help in the first place, the one who had gotten him too involved with the situation.

He sat down beside Draco's bed, listening to the boy's heavy breathing as he slept, and watched him. The boy could be a brat sometimes, but Severus loved him like a son. After the Dark Lord had punished Draco, Snape had taken the boy back to his house on Spinner's End and given him a place to stay. His main priority now was to protect him.

Snape knew that the longer Draco remained as the Dark Lord's servant, the more likely he would die young. Draco had already proven that he couldn't kill--this was not the sort of person that the Dark Lord wished to have under his command. The only chance that Draco appeared to have, slim as that chance may be, was for Draco spy for the Order, just as Snape himself did--or used to have done.

Sighing as his thoughts turned to the Order, Snape ran a hand through his greasy locks. They'd never believe that he was still on their side, still spying for them, not after he had killed--no, he didn't want to think about it.

He buried his head into his hands, unaware of two silver eyes watching him from the bed in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

This story seems to be going a little slowly, but please keep reading, it'll pick up later on.

**CHAPTER THREE**

"_Harry_!"

As Hermione threw her arms around him, Harry smiled. After being isolated from the rest of the wizarding world for a few days, Harry was glad to see his friends once again, although he knew that this happiness would be short-lived.

When Hermione let go of him, Harry grinned at Ron, before giving Ginny a hug. He loved Ginny, but, he thought to himself rather regretfully, he had ended their relationship soon after it began, because he wished to protect her. Had Voldemort heard of his love for her--and he_would_ have, the snaky bastard had his ways and means of finding out information--then Ginny would have made a very good target. Harry didn't want any more people to die because of him.

''Ello 'Arry!" Fleur called, and when Harry released Ginny, Fleur took his face into her hands and gave him a kiss on each cheek. His smile fading slightly, Harry turned to look at Ron, who looked hopefully to Fleur, before smacking himself on the forehead. "We are so glad zat you could make eet to our weddeeng."

After Mrs. Weasley made a fuss about how thin Harry was (and force-feeding him before she was satisfied he had had enough), Hermione and Ron saw him upstairs where he dumped his trunk in the room he was to share with Ron. They looked eager to talk to him about the Horcruxes, but he was definitely not in the mood to think about them, not yet. He wanted to enjoy himself as much as possible--after all, life was too short.

* * *

Snape returned to find Draco sitting up in his bed, looking tired but haughty. The lack of gel in his hair was definitely an odd sight (though Snape always secretly thought his favourite student looked better without the slimey stuff), and bags were beginning to develop on his pale face underneath his eyes.

"Draco," Snape said, his voice not unkind. "How are you feeling?"

Draco looked up at him, his silver eyes shining--and were those_tears_ in his eyes? He shrugged, and then looked away from the former Hogwarts professor, instead staring at the wall.

"Draco, don't make the same mistake as you did before," Snape said, moving closer and sitting in the wooden chair beside the bed. "I want to help you, if you would only let me. You can confide in me."

The boy closed his eyes for a moment, and the room remained silent. Finally, Draco opened his eyes.

"I don't want to be a Death Eater." As he said the words, Draco looked a little stunned, for at last, he had voiced his thoughts. The realisation hit him then--that what he wanted to become when he had been a naive boy of eleven was not what he wanted for himself now. The realisation that he no longer wished to follow in his father's footsteps, to be the right-hand man of the Dark Lord. "I don't want to kill anyone, or hurt anyone. I just ... you saw what happened with ... with ... with Dumbledore." The more he spoke, however, the easier it became, Draco found, and before he knew it, he started to ramble. "I didn't want to do it--at first I thought it was wonderful, the Dark Lord giving me this important mission. To kill Dumbledore. But--afterwards, I realised--I was going to_kill_ someone. Kill! But the Dark Lord had already made it plain, if I didn't carry out my mission, he'd--he'd kill my mother and father...and me. I_had_ to do it, I didn't exactly have a choice, did I? But--"

Snape held up a finger, and the boy stopped talking, his shoulders dropping slightly. "Draco, I need to talk to you about your options..."

"What options?" Draco spat, and for a moment, he looked livid--but the moment passed, and his shoulders drooped even further.

Severus ignored the outburst, and continued talking as though nothing had happened. "You've reached a point in your life, Draco, where you reach a fork in the road...and you must make a decision. It'll be the most important decision you'll ever make in your life, so choose wisely which path you decide to take."

"Get to the point," Draco snapped, looking annoyed once more. "Just say it in plain English, would you? And stop beating around the bush!"

Severus looked angry for a moment, but managed to keep in his temper when he saw a tear start to trickle down Draco's cheek. He sighed as the boy angrily wiped the tear away. "You have to decide now...where your loyalties lie, Draco."

The boy frowned. "You mean..." He trailed off into silence, pausing to think. "I already have the Dark Mark on my arm," he said, trying to sound indifferent, but his voice wavered slightly. "It's quite obvious which side I'm on, isn't it?"

"Things aren't black and white, Draco," Snape said softly. "I'm risking a lot in telling you this, Draco, since you are still unsure of which side you are on, but I'll tell you in the hope that you will make the right decision. Though I bear the Dark Mark on my left arm, I'm not truly on the Dark Lord's side at all."

Draco frowned. "You mean--you were spying for Dumbledore all along?"

Snape nodded, and the boy stared at the wall again, thinking. Seeing that Draco still wasn't entirely convinced, Snape tried again. "Besides, you can't kill or hurt anyone--you said so yourself. Do you think the Dark Lord wants someone like you in his ranks? You'd most likely die in his hands if you remain on his side."

Draco still said nothing. Severus decided it was best for Draco to make the right decision on his own, so he gave the boy an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder, before leaving the room.

* * *

Smiling widely, Harry watched as Bill and Fleur made their vows, and then kissed. He clapped along with everyone else, and Ron wolf-whistled while Hermione laughed merrily. Mrs. Weasley was beaming, and Harry was glad to see that she'd finally accepted Fleur as her daughter-in-law. Anyway, he was sure that Fleur would make a good wife to Bill, and he wasn't sure why Mrs. Weasley had been so against their marriage in the first place. It was so obvious that the two loved each other very much.

"Come on, Harry!" Ginny said suddenly, and Harry snapped out of his daydream. "They're taking wedding photos!"

He let her drag him off to take wedding pictures, glad that he had been a witness to such happiness in such dark times. He only wished that he would live long enough to see another happy day such as this.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything 

Warnings: character death(s), HBP spoilers

This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but please bear with me and keep reading!

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"I just wish you'd confide in us more often, Harry," Hermione said, looking concerned. She reached out and put a hand on Harry's arm and gave it a squeeze. "We understand what you're going through, especially after..." she stopped suddenly, and Harry looked up.

"It's not that I didn't want to talk to you," Harry sighed, breaking the awkward silence. He looked at Ron, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the almost-mention of Dumbledore. "I didn't want to ... think about ... what I have to do. Not when we're attending Bill and Fleur's wedding, not when we're being ... happy."

Ron cleared his throat a little. "But now that the wedding is over, it's alright to talk about it. Right?" He looked uncertainly at Hermione, and then back at Harry. He looked as though he regretted speaking.

"If that's what you want," Harry snapped, and then he immediately regretted lashing out at his best friend. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Hermione waited for Harry to say something more, but he didn't, and she looked more concerned. "Well," she said, cutting through the second awkward silence, "Ron and I have been thinking about the Horcruxes while you were at the Dursleys'..."

"Yeah," Ron interrupted, and Hermione glared at him. "We've been thinking about it a lot, especially since you told us that one of the Horcruxes was a locket. And we were thinking, lockets...I was sure..."

"_We_, Ron,_we_ were sure," Hermione snapped.

"Yeah,_we_ were sure that we'd seen a locket somewhere before," Ron said, as though Hermione hadn't interrupted at all. "And then it hit us--we saw one at Grimmauld Place!"

Hermione and Ron both looked at Harry eagerly to see his reaction, but they were both disappointed when Harry frowned, and asked, "We did?"

Amused, Harry watched as Hermione slapped her forehead, while Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. As serious as the subject was, Harry could not help but laugh at their exasperation at his bad memory.

"_Honestly_," Ron said. "Don't you remember _anything_? Back at Grimmauld Place, while we were sorting through all that rubbish there ... we came across this locket, don't you remember? And no one could open it ..."

"Really," Harry said, still amused. Then he became serious again. Looking thoughtful, he finally said, "We don't have any other leads as to where that locket is, so I suppose we should check this one out first. Do you remember what we did with the locket, Ron?"

Ron opened his mouth quickly to say something, but stopped, thinking. "Uh ... I don't know what happened to that locket," he finally admitted, and Hermione didn't appear to remember either, for Harry turned to look at her, and she shrugged her shoulders.

* * *

Remus Lupin, dressed as shabbily as ever, with just a few more grey streaks running through his brown hair, smiled as Tonks entered the room, her hair bubblegum pink. She sat beside him on their bed, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, when she saw Lupin's worried expression, and she put her hand over his. His hand felt cold and clammy, and she gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Nothing," Lupin sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "I'm just concerned about Harry." When Tonks looked at him for more of an explanation, he added, "He's only 17, and the wizarding world expect him to defeat the most powerful wizard of our time, now that Dumbledore's gone. It's such a burden ..."

Tonks smiled sadly. "He'll be fine, Remus--see what he's done! Escaped You-Know-Who enough times for us to know that Harry has a chance to defeat him. But you're right ... what a burden to be placed on his shoulders, at such a young age ..."

Now looking more solemn (which looked odd, seeing as her hair _was _a strange shade of pink), Tonks leaned into Remus for a moment, and he put an arm around her, and they sat like that for a few moments. Then, lost in her thoughts, Tonks stood up, mumbling something about a glass of water, and she left the room. Seconds later, there was a loud _crash_! and Lupin heard Tonks repeatedly saying, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to ..." and he chuckled.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything 

Warnings: character death(s), HBP spoilers

CHAPTER FIVE

12 Grimmauld Place was as grubby and dusty as Harry remembered. On tip-toe, so as not to wake up Mrs. Black, he, Ron and Hermione climbed up the stairs as quietly as they could, whispering to each other. After much effort on Harry's part, he finally recalled the locket that Ron and Hermione spoke of, although he could not, for the life of him, remember what it looked like, for there had been quite a number of strange and dark objects to be found in the house. The locket just didn't stand out in his memory, not like the music box, which, Harry recalled, nearly put everybody to sleep, until Ginny came to her senses and slammed the lid shut.

"Do you remember where we found it last time?" Harry whispered, glancing around once they reached the top of the staircase, shushing Hermione as she began humming a song by Celestina Warbeck.

Ron shrugged in response to Harry's question. "We'll just have to ransack the place," he whispered back. "Unless Hermione remembers where?"

Hermione, who had taken up humming again, shook her head, pointing at the nearest room to her. "I'll take this one," she said, while Ron muttered darkly about how she was becoming more like his mother.

They went to separate rooms to search. While rummaging through a wardrobe in the room Sirius had once kept Buckbeak in, Harry felt somewhat peeved with himself, but also rather shocked, to think that a piece of Voldemort's soul could have been kept in a place where he had spent most of his summer holidays in during the previous year. A place where his godfather had spent holed up in, not able to go out in case someone saw him ...

And Harry felt something within him stir, as his eyes began to burn. The thought of Sirius ... he felt weak, and somewhat embarrassed (despite the fact that he was in the room by himself) that a warm tear had begun trickling down his face, dropping off his chin. He remembered Dumbledore saying something about how it was a sad ending to what ought to have been a happy, and long, relationship ...

A second tear made its way down his cheek, as his thoughts turned to Dumbledore, and Harry wiped it away furiously. He wasn't going to cry, he_wasn't_ ...

"Harry?"

Giving his face a quick rub to make sure it was dry, Harry whirled around, and saw Hermione standing at the door, her hands stained grey from dust. "We've looked _everywhere_," she said anxiously, "but we can't seen to find it, it's imperative that we remember what we did with it last time ..."

She trailed off, looking closely at Harry's face. Harry stared back, hoping that she didn't suspect anything.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

"Fine," Harry mumbled back, and then he shut the drawer he had been looking through. "I haven't quite finished with this room yet, but I haven't come up with anything so far."

"Let me help you," Hermione said, and the two of them worked through the rest of the room. Harry could feel Hermione's eyes watching him, and he knew that she didn't believe him when he told her that he was 'fine', but he went on as though he didn't notice.

Ron poked his head into the room a few minutes later, asking, "Any luck?"

"It's not here," Hermione said, dusting herself off. She sneezed as a cloud of dust hid her from view. A few seconds later, when she was visible again, Hermione coughed, and said, "Ron, are you sure you can't remember what we did with the locket last time?"

Looking annoyed, Ron snapped, "If I remembered, do you think I would have wasted my time ransacking this place? And look at me!" He made a gesture to the robes he was wearing, which were stained grey and brown. "This place is filthy!"

Harry didn't listen as the two continued to bicker; the first lead to a Horcrux turned out to be a dead end until he could figure out, or remember, what happened to the locket. His heart sank as the disappointment settled in; his first attempt to find a Horcrux had been a failure, and he was glad that Dumbledore and Sirius weren't there to see it.

* * *

The house on Spinner's End was deadly quiet. Draco Malfoy was thankful for the silence--he needed time to think. Snape's words to him, Draco realised, had made plenty of sense, but changing sides was a risky business all the same. And did he really want to spy for the other side?

Draco didn't know.

It had been a couple of months since Snape had had that awkward talk with him, but Draco still hadn't made up his mind. He could tell that his protector was now beginning to worry, but that didn't change anything at all. No matter how much he wanted to make a decision, Draco was--he was quite reluctant to admit--too afraid to make a life-changing decision, and it was just easier for him, at the moment, to sit on the fence.

Suddenly, Malfoy sat up straight in his bed, realising that he had been seventeen for more than a month, and he hadn't known. Now he was of age, but Draco didn't feel any different--he still felt the same as he had when he was sixteen, still afraid for his life, for his family, afraid ...

There were so many reasons why Draco shouldn't switch sides. For one, it meant grovelling at Potter's feet, begging him to believe that he really wanted to help him, that he didn't want to serve the Dark Lord ... and despite the dire circumstances, Draco didn't want to let _Potter_, of all people, have this kind of power over him. But it wasn't only his pride that made him hesitant. He hadn't any idea how one went about being a spy, and though he knew he could count on Snape to help him, Draco knew that being a spy was a dangerous position, and that often, spies couldn't count on having the trust of those who were on the same side. Snape was a living example. Only Dumbledore had trusted him, and everyone else had remained wary, trusting Dumbledore's judgement, but also keeping a lookout, just in case ...

And spies got themselves into nasty situations where, whatever they did, the outcome wouldn't be pleasant. Malfoy thought about Snape's face, contorted with pain and disgust, when he uttered the spell that killed Dumbledore. Snape hadn't wanted to kill the only man who really trusted him, but it was the best option. If Snape had revealed he was truly on Dumbledore's side, not only would they have killed him (and, perhaps, Draco), but Dumbledore would have died anyway--Malfoy remembered how weak he had seemed when he cornered him in the tower.

With these thoughts in his head, Draco Malfoy was not at all eager to become a spy for the other side, but neither was he willing to take the life of many innocent Muggles, half-bloods and Muggle-borns. And he didn't want to die. Like any ordinary person, Muggle or not, Draco wanted to fall in love, have children, see his mother and father one more time ... he hated these dark times and longed for the days when the Dark Lord was in hiding, too afraid and weak to show himself to the wizarding world.

When Severus came to check on him half an hour later, Draco accepted the tray of food his protector offered him, and between chews, informed him, "I've made my decision."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 

WARNINGS: HBP Spoilers, character death(s)

Hugs and kisses to YoungReese and LauraDK for reviewing:)

**Chapter Six**

Draco had made his decision, and Severus Snape was going to do everything in his power to help the boy find safety. Snape was glad that Draco had made the right decision--he didn't know what he would have done with him if he had decided to continue serving the Dark Lord, for Draco knew who Snape really supported.

However, now that Malfoy had made his decision, Snape knew that there was more pressure on him to find a way to get the Order to accept him--and he knew this would be difficult. After all, hadn't he been the one to kill Dumbledore? How on earth would he convince them that he was not really on the Dark Lord's side? It hadn't mattered so much before if he could get them to trust him again, but now that Draco was changing sides...

The Order weren't going to believe he was still on their side. Would they ... ? And yet, Severus couldn't hang around in his house on Spinner's End waiting for someone to come and kill him, not now that he had someone to look after and protect. He would have to find some way to persuade the Order, he'd just have to try--although he was doubtful as to whether they would be convinced.

Being a Slytherin, Snape wondered who owed him a favour--he could call in the favour now, he thought to himself. Even if they didn't believe him ... they owed him, so he'd just ask them not to inform the Order of their conversation. But who ... he knew there was someone who owed him ...

Snape put his cloak on as he paced up and down in his dark living room, preparing himself to Apparate once he'd come up with a plan. He had to act now, he had to, not only for his sake, but for Draco's ...

And he remembered a certain werewolf who needed Wolfsbane Potion every month a few years ago, and for the first time in several months, Severus Snape's mouth twitched at the corners into a slight smile, before he Apparated to where he knew he could find who he hoped to be his Savior.

* * *

Not at all willing to return to The Burrow after the failure of his first attempt to find a Horcrux, Harry had insisted that he, Ron and Hermione to stay at Grimmauld Place until they figured out what they would do next. This was how Harry found himself staring up at the dusty ceiling of his room in what used to be Sirius' house. Ron was asleep next door, and Harry could hear his snuffling snore through the thin wall that divided them. 

He knew that he ought to get his rest, but the problem was that Harry couldn't sleep--he couldn't stop thinking about the Horcruxes.

Having given up any hope of falling asleep, Harry sat up in his bed, but did not turn on the light. He thought about the many trips into the Penseive he had made with Dumbledore the previous year ... looking at memories from which he could learn more about Voldemort, his weaknesses, his Horcruxes ...

Feeling thirsty, Harry pulled off the blankets and got out of bed, going down the stairs and into the kitchen. To his surprise, he found Hermione sitting there, in the darkness, her hand clutching what appeared to be a half-eaten sandwich. Hearing his footsteps, she looked at him, startled.

"Harry!" she said softly, careful not to raise her voice too much in case she woke Ron. "Couldn't you sleep?"

He shook his head, and after fetching himself a glass of water, sat down opposite Hermione, who took a bite of her sandwich. "What are you doing down here, Hermione?"

She smiled, her cheeks bulging, then swallowed. "I couldn't sleep either," she said. "It's just ... I couldn't stop thinking about how ... we're never going to go back to school again. We're not children anymore, Harry, and we'll never worry about detentions or homework or exams again ..."

Harry looked at her for a moment as she trailed off. "You still have seventh year, Hermione. You could have gone to another school, even if Hogwarts isn't open anymore. Beauxbatons doesn't appear to be too bad ..."

"No," Hermione said, and this time, she didn't seem to care that she was talking with her mouth full. "Ron and I are coming and we're going to help you, Harry, even if you don't want us there. You're going to need all the help you can get."

Smiling, Harry said, "Thanks. That really means ... a lot. To me."

Grinning back, her cheeks bulging once more, and her sandwich almost finished, Hermione swallowed. Suddenly, she started to giggle.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, amused. He hardly ever saw Hermione giggle before--she was never that sort of girl, and Harry was glad for it.

"I was just thinking," Hermione said, as she took the last bite of her sandwich, and brushed the crumbs off her fingers. "Being in this house again, made me think about those awful objects we used to find here ... I know some were Dark Objects, some were just plain ugly ... don't you remember that music box? And those awful goblets ... I don't mean to offend you or Sirius in any way, but those goblets_were_ ugly, especially with those awful crests on them ... Harry, what's wrong?"

Looking alarmed that she might have said something wrong, Hermione looked at Harry, concerned, but Harry made a gesture with his hand, waving her concern aside. "I just ... I know where to find the locket!"

"What?" Hermione asked, her face showing a mixture of admiration and surprise. "What made you think of it? Where is it?"

"What you said, about those objects ... especially the goblets ... it jogged my memory." Harry stood up, paused, and then, with a soft 'good night' to Hermione, started to ascend the stairs.

"Wait ... Harry, where are you going?"

Harry looked over his shoulder and said, "To sleep. I'm going to need my rest, if we're going to destroy a piece of Voldemort's soul tomorrow. Besides, now that I know where the locket is ... I might sleep easier."

He left Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, looking pensive, as he went back to his room. And he was right--he fell asleep as soon as he climbed under the sheets.

* * *

Fenrir Greyback was as filthy, disgusting, and hairy he had been the time he had gone with the Death Eaters to Hogwarts, the night that Dumbledore had died. His nails were long and yellow, as were his teeth, and his face was almost black from lack of showering. Remus Lupin despised the man, but to keep his cover, and to continue spying on the werewolves' activities, he knew that he had to, at least, be civil to the foul creature. 

Remus looked up as Greyback barged into his room, looking somewhat eager.

"Lupin!" he snarled, and Lupin watched in horror (though he tried not to show it on his face) as Greyback pushed a young boy, who could not have been older than 8 years of age, at his feet. "I've brought you something for supper," he said, eyeing the boy hungrily.

"Thank you, Fenrir," Lupin said, though he felt nauseated. "I'll ... you know how I am, Fenrir. I like to have my privacy, especially when I'm ... indulging ... myself." He found it difficult to get the words out.

"Always so self-conscious," Fenrir growled, looking somewhat amused. "Indulge me this once, Remus, and let me watch. I love to watch, as you know ..." He frowned when he caught Remus' slightly-worried expression.

"Please, Fenrir, my privacy?"

Greyback looked peeved, as he started to head to the door, and Remus felt somewhat relieved. However, his relief disappeared as Fenrir turned around suddenly.

"No," he suddenly said. "This time, I want to watch. I want to make sure."

Lupin felt panic begin to seize his heart as he managed to get the words out, "Make sure of what, Fenrir?"

Smiling evilly, Fenrir crossed his arms and said, "Make sure that you bite him."

"Of course I'll bite him, I'm a werewolf, aren't I?" Remus snapped. "Please Fenrir ..."

Suddenly looking furious, Fenrir Greyback soon had Remus by the collar, his hot, stinky breath on the ex-Hogwarts professor's face. "I want you to know that I'm on to you, Remus," Fenrir snarled, as Lupin gulped and grabbed at his claw-like hands. "I've never seen you bite before, Remus ... what, you claim you want privacy, but how do you explain the absence of bodies when you're done? I've never seen you take a bite ... prove me wrong Remus, take a bite from this boy's neck, and let me watch ..."

Somewhat repulsed by the smell of sweat, rotting flesh, and bad breath, Remus turned away, still trying to remove Fenrir's hands from his collar. He caught the eye of the small boy, who hadn't moved from where he knelt on the ground, and he felt a mixture of sadness, panic and horror. He looked back at Fenrir, whose hands had moved from Lupin's collar to his neck.

"Do it," Fenrir snarled, and Lupin tried to suppress a shudder as he felt the other werewolf's hot breath on his neck. Suddenly, his neck felt wet from where Fenrir had placed his wet lips on, and Lupin somehow froze. It was an unfamiliar situation, something he wasn't prepared for. Reality sank back in when he felt the scrape of pointed teeth against his flesh, as Fenrir kissed his neck.

"Do it," Greyback said into his neck, and Remus shuddered at the hot breath on his neck, and the claw-like hands suddenly groping further down at his robes. "Do it, or I'll have you for supper."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own anything 

Warnings: character death(s), HBP spoilers

Lots of hugs and kisses to nandhp, YoungReese and LauraDKfor reviewing!

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

As Fenrir groped with those claw-like hands of his, Lupin tried to keep himself calm, knowing that he'd have to think quickly if he was going to get himself out of this sticky situation. It was difficult, however, for Fenrir's hands had already begun to undo his robes, while Lupin's neck was still being licked and sucked.

The young boy was still kneeling on the floor with his eyes shut. He whimpered, while tears ran down his face.

Lupin opened his mouth to say something, but Fenrir's licks and kisses were moving away from his neck, further down ... his robes had somehow come undone, and the other werewolf began to make his way down Lupin's chest. He had to keep calm, he had to ... it was difficult thinking of something to do to get himself (and the boy) out of this mess alive, with Fenrir busy molesting him with those gnarly hands, that awful, stinky breath breathing down on him greedily ...

Looking away from the awful lump of hair and bad breath that was playing with his robes, Lupin saw the little boy open his eyes and watch the two werewolves for a moment, his eyes shining with tears. Then the boy, seeing that his captors were somewhat occupied, crawled silently to the open door and slipped out of the room.

And suddenly, a gnarly hand made its way down Lupin's pants ... Lupin immediately reacted, shoving Fenrir onto the ground.

Fenrir snarled--his facial expression was a curious mixture of anger and hunger. Lupin, though somewhat relieved that he had managed to do SOMETHING, began to reach into the pocket of his robes for his wand, only to find that Fenrir was now smirking at him, and only too late, Lupin noticed his wand clutched tightly in Greyback's hand.

And suddenly, Fenrir pounced, pinning Lupin to the floor, those sharp, pointy, yellow teeth gleaming with saliva in the dim light ...

"_Stupefy_!"

Grunting as he pushed Fenrir's dead weight off himself, Lupin sat up on the ground and looked toward the source of the voice, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

Severus Snape stood before him, looking rather solemn. Lupin eyed his wand, and waited for the sarcastic comment that he was sure to receive from his school rival before receiving the killing curse; instead, there was an awkward silence.

"What are you doing here, Severus?" Lupin asked wearily. He noticed that Snape had lost some weight--he had become, if possible, paler than before, and his long dark hair looked greasier than ever. Lupin almost felt sorry for the man, before reminding himself that his saviour had been the same man who had killed Dumbledore.

Severus stared at Lupin for a moment, thinking about his answer. Finally, he said, "We've been bitter rivals since our schooling days, Remus, but for the first time, I'm going to have to ask you to put aside our differences and hear me out ..."

"And why should I do that?" Lupin interrupted, starting to feel rather cross, despite the fact that Snape had just saved his life.

"Because I've just saved your life, you stupid fool," Snape spat, looking livid. Then, his shoulders slumped, and Snape just looked tired. "I'm just asking you to let me explain my actions, Remus. You don't know the whole story."

Standing up shakily, Lupin dusted off his robes, and looked Snape in the eye. "I don't trust you, and I'm not going to stay and listen to your lies." He bent down and snatched his wand away from Fenrir's limp hand.

"You're going to have to wipe his memory, if you want to come back underground and keep your position as spy," Snape pointed out. "Do you want me to ..."

"I'm quite capable of performing a simple charm, Severus!" Lupin snapped, and then he pointed his wand at Fenrir. "_Obliviate_."

Snape was, to Lupin's surprise, beginning to look desperate. There's a first time for everything, Lupin thought to himself.

"Please Remus ... listen to me. You weren't there, last year, when I ..." Snape gulped, and a somewhat pained expression appeared on his face. "... when I did ... _it_. You don't understand, and I have to make you ..."

But Lupin was turning away, looking ready to Disapparate, and Snape, seeing his chance slipping away, grabbed at Lupin's arm. Lupin stopped and glared.

"I'm not going to try to convince you for my sake, Remus," Snape said urgently. "I'm doing this because ..." He trailed off, looking rather at a loss for words.

"You're doing it for that Malfoy boy," Lupin said flatly, and Snape saw that he was starting to weaken.

"He's young, too young," Snape started again, "and the only reason he did what he did last year was in an effort to save his parents and himself. Even if you don't give me a second chance ... give Draco one. He needs it."

Looking uncertainly at Snape, Lupin sighed, and the former Potions Master knew that he had won. An expression of relief appeared on Snape's features.

"Alright," Lupin finally said. "We're going to have a long talk about this ... but not here."

* * *

The Hog's Head hadn't changed a bit since Harry's fifth year, where he, Ron and Hermione started up the DA. Harry wasn't surprised, therefore, when he peered into the pub through a window, to see it quite bare, except for one or two customers sitting at the bar. Harry didn't mind this, however ... it made it easier for him to find what he was looking for.

And there he was--Harry spotted Mundungus Fletcher showing a customer some of his wares. He felt a little annoyed when he saw Mundungus ... he hadn't forgotten that the sneaky thief had gone through Sirius' things and taken some to sell.

But that was the reason why he was here today, at the grubby pub, wasn't it?

"Hermione, Ron, I think you two should go talk to Mundungus without me," Harry said, turning away from the window to face his two best friends. "He's in there, trying to sell something ..."

"Why can't you come in with us?" Ron asked, and Hermione sighed behind him.

"Because if Mundungus sees Harry, he might disappear like he did last time," she said, sounding exasperated. "Don't forget, he knows that Harry knows that he took Sirius' belongings from Grimmauld Place ..."

A look of comprehension appeared on Ron's face. "Oh ..." he said. He glanced at Harry and said, "Better go get it over with, then, eh? And let's hope Dung doesn't do a disappearing act when he sees 'Mione and me."

Taking Hermione's hand in his, Ron marched into the Hog's Head, while Harry watched what happened through the window. He watched as they approached Mundungus--his friends were smiling brightly, too brightly, as they tapped Mundungus on the shoulder and began talking to him. As he watched, Harry began to worry. What if Mundungus hadn't taken the locket after all? Or what if he had taken it, but he'd already sold it? Dung didn't look like the type to make receipts or keep track of what he sold to whom ... Harry just hoped that he hadn't come to another dead end in his search for the Horcrux.

However, he needn't have worried--to his relief, he saw Hermione hand over a few Galleons and Sickles, and Mundungus handed a package to Ron. Harry smiled, and continued to watch as Ron unwrapped the package, obviously checking to see if the locket really was in there. Then Ron and Hermione smiled, waved at Mundungus, and left.


End file.
